“Very well. We will have to show your friends, won’t we? It looks like the master of ceremonies is about to announce the minuet,” she said, pointing at the man who was walking toward the middle of the dance floor with his ceremonial staff.
Aaron offered her his arm. “Shall we, then?”
“We shall.”
“And after that, we will see about filling up your dance card.”
As the music started, Aaron led Judith to the dance floor, the familiar strains of the minuet filling the room. He felt an unexpected thrill at having her in his arms. They began the dance, moving gracefully in time with the music.
He reminded himself that he wasn’t supposed to enjoy her company—this was strictly an arrangement, after all. This he inhaled deeply and brought her attention back to the matter at hand.
“So, do you see anyone you’d like to add to your dance card?” he asked.
She raised an eyebrow. “Are we playing a game now?”
“Why not? We may as well make it entertaining, and we have to choose some gentlemen somehow.”
She glanced around the room. “How about that gentleman over there, dancing near the window?”
Aaron followed her gaze and saw Lord Pembroke, a tall man with a reputation for his charm and wit. Ladies often spoke of his good looks.
He felt a pang of envy, though wasn’t sure why.
“I know him,” Aaron said, trying to keep his tone light. “Lord Pembroke. We went to Eton together.”
“It seems all of England went to Eton,” Judith quipped, and he let out a chuckle.
“It does, doesn’t it? Anyhow, he’s quite popular among the ladies.”
“Is he now?” Judith teased. “Well, perhaps you could make an introduction?”
“Of course,” Aaron replied, though the idea did not please him.
Lord Pembroke, or Chucky as they used to call him, was a bit of a dandy. The type of man who’d soak his pantaloons overnight to make them extra tight. A peacock. Did she find that sort of man attractive? Was she genuinely interested or just playing the game?
“May I ask, why Lord Pembroke?” he asked, trying to sound casual.
Judith laughed softly. “I just thought he looked like someone who might make interesting conversation. Why, is there something the matter with him?”
“Of course not,” Aaron said quickly, but the truth was he felt a twinge of something he couldn’t quite fathom. “I just want to make sure you’re making a wise choice.”
“Oh, Aaron,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement, “did you not tell me I am to fill my dance card?”
“I did.”
“Every dance, you told me,” she added.
“That I said as well, and I meant it.”
“Well then, I shall have to select more than just Lord Pembroke, do you not think?”
She smiled and looked around the room, and nodded at another man. Aaron made a note of who he was, and then the two continued both their dance and their selection process. It was almost entertaining, making such a game of it. Almost. For somehow, in the pit of his stomach, Aaron felt unease growing with each gentleman she selected.
Why did it bother him that she was doing exactly what he’d asked of her? Was it because… No, certainly not.
He wasn’t charmed by her. He couldn’t be. He, Aaron Fitzwilliam, charmed others. He was not charmed by them.
Except at this very moment, he could not deny that the way she looked around the room, a small half-smile on her lips and her eyes sparkling with newfound mischief, was… decidedly charming.
